


like sandalwood

by thaumasilva



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alpha!Jester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega!Beau, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Harassment, Supportive Friendship, Xhorhas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-26 00:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20380309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thaumasilva/pseuds/thaumasilva
Summary: Beau is shaken up after an instance of sexual harassment, Jester calms her down.Omega!Beau, Alpha!Jester, pre-relationship.





	like sandalwood

**Author's Note:**

> i'm pretty interested in ABO dynamics, but less the sex part and more the dynamic part. i have my own specific take on it that shows up here, hopefully it's easy to follow
> 
> please enjoy ! i cannot believe i'm posting this

Beau is washing her face in the bathroom sink. The tavern that the Bright Queen set them up with is nice, for Xhorhas, and she revels in the hot water for the first time in weeks. Through the low light that reflects on the purple stone she can see all of her bruises, similarly colored, dappled against her skin like carnival prizes. It makes her feel good to know that she’s won every mark placed on her.

She’s cleaned all of the excess dirt and oil off her face and is about to rejoin her friends at dinner when the door creaks open. Whatever, it’s a public bathroom, although as an elven man steps through Beau doesn’t remember if it was supposed to be gender-neutral. He’s taller than her with the strange white hair of the drow, and he takes the sink next to hers. She’s chosen the one at the end of the row, farthest from the door. Little factors add up to make Beau pause in drying her face, the biggest of which is the amber pupils she can see reflected in the man’s mirror. 

She breathes in and it’s suddenly clear. The small bathroom and how weirdly close he’s standing all add up to a strong scent of  _ alpha,  _ and Beau grimaces. It’s uncomfortable, so she gives her shoulder a last rotation and straightens up, intending to head for the door.

He’s staring at her. Great. The novelty of a human in Rosohna, especially one with silver in her eyes— Beau gets it, she does, but she’s still hungry. She takes a step to the side but is stopped by the man’s voice, loud in the silence.

“Excuse me,” he says. He points with interest at Beau’s shoulder, where a large yellowing bruise still shines through her skin. “Do you want any help with that?”

Beau’s pretty sure that one is from Dairon, and no she does not. She grunts to stave off any further conversation and moves forward just as the man takes a step towards her, stopping her in her tracks. He’s bright-eyed and clearly interested. Beau’s fists come up half-way on instinct, and she growls at him.

He flinches for only a half-second before shrugging the warning off. “Come on now,” he says, “I was only trying to be nice.”

Beau sneers. “Yeah, well, I can fucking take care of myself.” At this the drow’s eyes darken and he shifts even closer, the strong smell of him crowding in between them. 

Beau is contemplating switching into ferality, letting that mode of total instinct take over and just bolting to the door. She could absolutely do it, in fact, she’s confident she could kill this man. So she doesn’t know why she suddenly feels shaky under the weight of his gaze, why she still hasn’t moved. This hasn’t ever happened to her before— usually, no suitors have gotten within ten feet— and somehow it’s knocking her off-balance.

The man is close enough to detect the sharp change in her scent and his eyes soften again, confidence straightening his features. “Come on,” he murmurs again, stepping right into Beau’s space. “Let me heal that right up—“ and he places a hand on her shoulder. Beau is sure that to some other, more well-suited omega this man smells like honey and crisp apples and fine wine, but all she’s getting is beeswax and balsamic vinegar and she chokes on the sting of it.

Her fist comes up to solidly connect with his jaw just as a bright flash of light erupts from his back. He makes one short cut-off hitch and drops to the tiled floor, instantly unconscious.

Beau takes a step backward, fists still raised, adrenaline and instinct guiding her towards whoever else she’ll have to fight now, arms still feeling like they’ve been cut at the strings—

Jester is standing at the entrance to the bathroom, her heavy skirts creased and her jewelry swaying as she still stands with one hand crackling with radiance, an expression of utmost fury twisting her freckles. The orange of her pupils are two miniature blazing suns, offset against the deep purple of her irises. She strides forward, impatiently kicking the man’s body out of the way, and stops in front of Beau.

“I had him,” says Beau, a little dumbstruck. She’s surprised at the intensity of Jester’s emotion, and this close can smell the anger coming off of her in waves. The omega part of Beau finds that intimidating and also, comforting? There’s no time to process.

“Well yes  _ obviously,”  _ seethes Jester. “But what a  _ creep.”  _ Her tail lashes behind her. “You know I have a lot of experience with alpha creeps like that man and they are all so  _ stupid,  _ all of them.”

Somehow Beau can’t find her voice to answer. Instead of re-balancing the shaky numbness is continuing to spread and she realizes that she’s shaking, just a little. It all feels surreal in that moment, like she’s watching her body from above.

She more smells than sees Jester shifting to concerned. The little tiefling steps closer before stopping abruptly, raising her hands up to Beau. She doesn’t say anything but just holds out her arms, lips pressed together in worry.

In normal company, Beau isn’t too keen on hugging. Or affection in general, really. But Jester is not normal, and they don’t have a normal relationship, do they? Jester is the only alpha Beau has met that doesn’t make her want to crawl out of her skin when their skin touches, so it’s so easy to step forward.

It’s not an embrace at first, just blue hands rubbing at Beau’s arms to settle her. Then Jester coos, a purr spreading into her chest as the alpha instinct tries to calm Beau, tries to get rid of the fear-scent still lingering. Beau allows it to work, and presses closer until they’re hugging for real. It relaxes Beau’s muscles, her breathing slowing.

Jester is the only other one in their group who has a dynamic, aside from possibly Caleb, who Beau suspects is using some sort of magic to cover up whatever’s underneath. She’s had plenty of time to get used to Jester’s scent, and for the first time Beau realizes that it’s  _ good.  _ Not just a pleasant surprise that it’s not bad, but something that’s actively calming. Jester is like sandalwood and clean winter air and the warm nights out on the ocean, the smell of the sea and the stars wheeling above. And Beau’s never, ever caught her straying too long around Beau’s own scent. Beau likes Jester, really likes her. 

_ Oh,  _ thinks Beau.  _ Oh shit.  _

She pulls back first to stave off the anxiety she’s sure will crash over her later. Jester steps back, hugging her arms to herself.

“Do you feel better now?” she asks. “It still smells like really scary in here.” 

“Yeah,” Beau says, taking a moment to clear her throat. She breathes in deeply. “Thanks, Jes.” 

Jester’s smile lights up the room. She turns to the side, huffing and flicking her fingers like it’s nothing. “Well you know I wasn’t just going to  _ stand  _ there.” Her tone turns more serious. “You know you can always come to me if you need to, Beau. That’s what friends do, support each other!”

Beau can’t stop from smiling at that. She glances down at the still-unconscious man on the floor. He’s not dead, but he’s not getting up anytime soon.

Jester shrugs at her, grinning. Beau can see her fangs flash and that does something nameless to her gut. “We’re heroes of the dynasty,” she says instead of vocalizing this.

Jester nods, mock-grave. “Oh yes. We can do whatever now.” She looks at the drow with distaste. “I hope he gets reincarnated as a shrub or something though.”

Beau laughs, easy, and Jester laughs alongside her. As she laughs her vision feels clearer, the world re-balancing. “We should probably go back. I’m still really hungry,” she says when they stop. “Um, maybe don’t mention this to the others when we go back out there, though?”

Jester links their pinkies. “Like I said, Beau, you’re always safe with me.”

Before she can stop herself: “Love ya, Jes.”

Jester grins and holds open the door for them. “Love ya, Beau.”


End file.
